Amnesia
by Fred-Weasley-Isn't-Dead
Summary: Charlotte; Found: Limp two and a half miles up from the Burrow, near Ottery St. Catchpole. State: Near unconscious. Memory: None
1. Chapter One: Found

Amnesia 

Whoa. That light was just too friggin' bright. Who the hell was doing that? The better question is why are they trying to blind me? Now the best question is where and who the hell am I? I squinted away from the light. Holy son of a bitch. A redheaded man knelt down in front of me. He straightened his already askew, horn-rimmed glasses and peered at me.

"Hello there." He smiled cautiously at me. I didn't respond. He moved the light back and forth before my eyes. I just stared blankly at him. "Merlin. Bill!" He shouted over his shoulder and within meagre seconds another redhead appeared, though this one was considerably younger, probably around eighteen, nineteen.

"What's wrong with her, Dad?" 'Bill' murmured, as though I couldn't hear him.

"I wish I knew. Hasn't moved since I found her." The man shrugged, pointing the light back into my eyes. Where was that damn light coming from? Wait. Was he holding a wand? He was…magic. And…so was I. I was magical. "Bill, Apparate her to Saint Mungo's. I need to go talk to Bagnold." At the mention of Apparition, I started shaking, violently. My eyes seemed to work on their own and began blinking rapidly.

"Dad, we can't take her to Saint Mungo's. We don't know if she's _magic._" Bill protested.

"She reacted to mention of magical activity. Now go!"

Bill nodded reluctantly and lifted me into his arms, not even struggling. I couldn't weigh that little. I'd eaten only yesterday...hadn't I? Either way, he must've been strong because, unless I was mistaken, I was a fully grown, or at least mostly, one hundred twenty pound, sixteen year old girl. But he lifted me as though I was six. Bloody, strong, teenage boy. "Close your eyes." He whispered in my ear, giving me mere moments to register the command and follow it out before squeezing them shut.


	2. Chapter Two: The Burrow

Amnesia

Chapter Two

I groaned at the intense lights and turned into Bill, who was rushing, to be honest. He managed to be over to the desk in three strides, he was that tall. "Healer Halverson." He demanded of the receptionist, not even waiting for her to ask him what she could do. The receptionist must've nodded and pressed something because a sudden '_pop_' not only scared the crap out of me but gave way to a person who I could only assume was Halverson. I felt myself being moved on to this thing. Cautiously I opened one eye a little bit and peered around. I was on a levitating stretcher and the doctor was hovering over me, but not looking. He looked to Bill.

"She'll be in room 435, the Spell Damage ward."

I felt around for Bill's hand, still adjusting to the light. When I found it, I clutched it tight. "Don't leave me." I think those were the first words I spoke in front of him. I may not know him, but he brought me to a hospital, so he can't be all bad.

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I smiled softly before closing my eyes and resting my head on the stretcher.

-x-

I blinked groggily. The lights were dimmed, thank God and my bed was insanely warm, but considering I was found out in the dead of night in the cold, a dying fire would feel warm. A magical heart monitor was beeping steadily next to me on my left, along with the remote to my bed and a night table.

To my right was a plush chair, purple in color and looking much softer than my bed. It held a dozing Bill. He seemed to have fallen asleep at will. I wish I could do that. I smacked his arm lightly. He jolted awake and looked around feverishly before remembering where he was. He smiled at me just a bit and pressed a button mounted on the wall next to my bed.

"Halverson said to ring him when you woke up." He explained, waiting for the soft pop that gave way to the Healer. Now that I'd gotten a better look at him, I'd say Healer Halverson was probably late twenties, mid thirties and looked like a young Patrick Swayze. I hardly noticed I was drooling a little bit. I only prayed Halverson didn't.

"Well, hello there, Miss, Bill." He smiled warmly at both of us, motioning at Bill since he was standing. Bill sat and looked at the Healer expectantly. "I've done some diagnostic tests and it seems you have had your memory erased with the _Obliviate _charm. You also appear to have the Muggle disease called 'Amnesia', post-traumatic."

"Amnesia?"

"It's a condition where the memory of a person is lost. You're type of amnesia is post-traumatic, meaning that you must've bumped your head on something."

"So, wait," Bill demanded. "She got this amnesia thing and _Obliviate'd_ on the same day."

Halverson paused. "Well, yes it's possible." His lips formed a tight linebefore turning to me. "I'm going to ask you a few questions and I want you to take as long as you need to try to remember. Okay?"

I shrugged. "Shoot."

"First off, what's your name?"

"Charlotte." I promptly answered, not even a little unsure.

"Okay then," He marked something down on his sheet of me in quick scribbles. "Middle name?"

I bit my lip and drummed my fingers against my knee. I thought long and hard, scouring my empty brain. "I got nothing."

"Age?"

"Sixteen."

"Birthday?"

"May something."

More scribbles. "And last?" I shook my head blankly. Scribbles still. "Do you remember what you were doing before you fell?"

"Running, I think. Everything is just one big blur."

"Mmmhmm." He jotted something down, taking one hard look at me. "Lastly, do you remember from who?"

"Nope. I don't think I looked back. Sorry."

"Quite alright, Charlotte. Now, since we don't know who your family is, we will arrange for you to live in a foster home down in-"

"No." Bill blurted. "Not some shady foster home where Merlin knows who will be there!

"Mr. Weasley, unless you've got another solution-"

"Got a fireplace?"

"Bill-"

"The _fireplace_?"

Halverson sighed and lead Bill to the fireplace, where Bill tossed a handful of green powder, said _'The Burrow_' and stuck his head in the green flames. I overheard him talking to someone named Percy, requesting their dad. He explained the situation and his dad _'Popped'_ over to my room.

"What were you bloody thinking?" Mr. Weasley was the kind-face man who had shined the light in my eyes before. His glasses were definitely askew, balding red hair and patched clothing. At the moment, he had turned his wand at Halverson and looked really fearsome. "Merlin, Anthony. A foster home?" I hadn't realized Mr. Weasley and Healer Halverson knew each other on a first-name basis. "At this time of crisis? What if she had was taken from the orphanage by one of his followers and turned against us? You've lost your marbles."

"Sign the release papers, Arthur." Halverson muttered, handing him a clipboard. Mr. Weasley signed his name with a flourish and helped me out of the bed and into Bill's arms. I had a feeling he wasn't that in shape anymore.

"Apparate, Bill." He instructed.

I closed my eyes, leaned into Bill's chest and counted the seconds until it was over.


	3. Chapter Three: The Twins

In a mere matter of seconds, I felt myself being lowered onto something soft and squishy. I didn't open my eyes until I was sure it was over. When I peeked one eye open, a woman was leaning over me, draping a knitted quilt across my shoulders. I practically shuddered at the warmth and yawned. She sat down on the couch next to me, I realized as it dipped. She rested a tender hand on my leg.

"Hello, sweetheart. I'm Molly Weasley. Welcome to the Burrow!" She swept out a hand to her home. From what I could tell, it was like she had monsters plaguing this place. It was only then that I realized Mr. Weasley and Bill were sitting in pea green coloured rockers. They were both watching me carefully. I shrunk back in my seat. Something about me was not used to the attention.

Mrs. Weasley's sentence led to a prolonged, awkward silence. It was broken by two ginger boys running into the room, nearly tripping over her. They looked to be twin, freckled ten year olds.

"Can we see her, Mum?" One begged.

"Please! We want to see if her Muggle disease is contagious." His twin added. In one simultaneous motion, they laced their hands together under their chins. Stupid twin thing.

Their mum sighed and cupped a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes. Mr. Weasley started to get up, presumably to drag his twin terror sons back to bed before another redhead walked in. Jeez, wasn't there a limit on how many ginger kids could be in one family? His hair was rumpled and he was rubbing his eyes. "I got them, Dad." He mumbled, grabbing the twins by the collar of their pajamas. They didn't make it easy but he was taller and undoubtedly stronger, dragging them back. He stopped when he saw me and his sapphire blue eyes suddenly seemed alert and wide. A small smile formed on his face for a second before he continued pulling his brothers back to bed.

Mr. Weasley settled back into his seat and rubbed his nose. "Sorry about those two. They're always like that."

"It's fine. They made my night entertaining." I shrugged.

"The older one was Charlie. The demon children were Fred and George." Bill said.

"How do you tell them apart?"

Each family member said in unison, "We don't."

Another awkward silence and somewhere, a clock tolled eleven. Without even the slightest hint of her next action, Mrs. Weasley pulled a wand out of her apron and handed it to me. I looked at it blankly. It didn't feel uncomfortable but it certainly didn't feel friendly in my palm. She smiled the barest of smiles and knocked over a nearby vase. Bill jumped a bit but Mr. Weasley didn't even seem fazed.

"Point the wand and say '_Reparo._' She instructed, showing me how I should move the wand. I raised my eyebrow and gave her a pointed look but did as she said. Aaand, nothing. She frowned and said, "Try again." Still nothing. "Once more." And then, thank Merlin, something happened. The vase started reassembling itself. Bill grinned, Mr. Weasley applauded lightly and Mrs. Weasley wrapped me in a hug. "Magic." She beamed. "Pure magic. Alright now. Bed. You could stay with Ginny-" There's more? "Or you could just stay down here."

"I think I'll stay here, thank you."

"If you want, I can Transfigure the couch into a bed, if you'd like." Mr. Weasley offered. I shook my head,

"No thank you. I'll be fine." I was in a pair of sweatpants and a tanktop, which I'm fairly certain I was wearing when they found me. They said their goodnights and headed upstairs. I wrapped the quilt around myself, huddled up under it and rested my head on the pillow. Sleep came quickly.


	4. Other Charlie

I woke up to the smell of bacon and….burning hair? That doesn't seem right. I yawned as I stood up, afraid to see anyone with the rat's nest my hair would inevitably be…or worse…see myself. Slowly, followed the smell of burning hair and bacon into the kitchen, curious but scared for my safety. Mrs. Weasley as bustling around as Fred-or was it George? - happily crunched away on a piece of bacon. "Good morning," I said quietly, my throat a little scratchy and my voice raspy. I winced inwardly. Didn't I sound bloody pleasant? The demon twin at the table covered his mouth and started laughing at my voice. So glad I could amuse him.

Mrs. Weasley turned to me. "Hello, dear. How'd you sleep?"

I shrugged. "Well enough, I suppose." Mrs. Weasley nodded and gave a smile but I could tell that she was dying to ask the question of '_Have I remembered anything?_ "I remembered something," I said conversationally, hoping that my strained memories were right and not just filling in what I wanted to know. Her face lit up like a Christmas tree. "People call me Charlie."

As if summoned by the sound of his name, or the smell of bacon, the _other_ Charlie appeared, sleep in his eyes and his short red crop of hair trussed up from sleep. "Morning. What's this I hear about Charlie? And who burned their hair?"

Mrs. Weasley gave a fond smile at him as he sat down at the table after ruffling up the twin's hair. "Percy," There's more? "was testing a potion and it didn't quite go so well. The smell'll air out by lunchtime," she said. "As for Charlie, that's what Charlotte was called." Charlie's head snapped up from where he'd been dozing off at the table, as if he'd just noticed me.

"Oh. Good morning, _Charlie,"_ he said, a teasing grin playing on the edges of his lips.

I froze. Oh, crap, my hair! "Morning," I said in response. "People used to call me Cabs, too, if they were closer friends. Dunno, why though, doesn't make any sense to me."

Mrs. Weasley and Charlie shared a look before Charlie broke it and shrugged. "Couldn't tell ya, mate."

Okay, this was not good. My hair was probably making Medusa's look like a supermodel's. "Do you have a loo I could use?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Upstairs, second floor, third door on your left," Mrs. Weasley said without thinking twice as the second terror twin came whizzing into the kitchen.

"Freddie! You'll never believe what I just did. I stole Bill's w—"

I figured now was as good a time as any to leave.

"What of Bill's did you steal?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her eyes narrowing and her lips pursing.

Charlie grimaced and grabbed a few pieces of bacon as he stood from the table. "I'm out," he said. "Come on, _Charlie,_ I'll show you to the bathroom."

I didn't particularly want him to see my hair for any longer time necessary but I didn't blame him for wanting to leave. I just nodded and snatched a piece of bacon for myself, leaving with Charlie before the yelling started and we were stuck in the crossfire.

We started talking on the way upstairs, because he'd already seen my _gorgeous_ hair, he must need to hear my voice, too. "So, you really don't remember anything?"

"Just my name and nicknames," I said with a shrug, keeping an eye on the floor in case I tripped over one of the many magical toys lying around.

"Wow. That must be…"

"Freaky. My entire mind is one big black hole."

Charlie whistled. "If you don't mind my asking—"

Before he could answer, I cut him off, playfully saying, "I _do_ mind." I grinned, letting him know it was only teasing and that he could ask.

"What do you prefer to be called?"

I crinkled my nose. Not what I'd been expecting. "Um, wow, that's actually a harder question than I anticipated. Normally, I'd say Charlie but you're the top Charlie here and I don't wanna have to battle you for the throne, 'cause I'd so lose."

"Not necessarily. I might let you win," Charlie shot back.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "It's not winning if it's not by my own hand."

"Touché. So, pick Charlotte or Cabs."

"Charlotte is way too girly and just no, so I'm going to go with Cabs." I only then noticed that we were on the second floor already and the bathroom was next to me, completely unoccupied, but I was too absorbed in the conversation to notice.

Charlie nodded as a flash of red hair, oh Jesus, sprinted from one dorm to the other. I raised my eyebrow. "That was Ginny," he explained, even though he couldn't possibly have seen her. "She had a nightmare last night and asked to sleep with me."

I couldn't help but smile. "Cute."

"I know I am," he shot back, grinning.

My cheeks flushed and I rolled my eyes to brush it off just then remembering my hair. "Alright, if you'll excuse me, I need to go urinate, so I will see you downstairs." Damn me and my ability to ruin everything with my awkwardness.

Charlie just laughed and nodded at the bathroom. "Better hurry before someone claims it," he said. I nodded and gave one last parting smile as I stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door to face my hair.


End file.
